


if tea even exists in the future, tim has no idea how it's made

by cardinal__sin



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Bickering, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Sick Character, Sick Fic, yea i think thats it??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:09:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28055169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cardinal__sin/pseuds/cardinal__sin
Summary: The amazingRaijinprompted me to write a sick fic with one of them miserably failing at making tea. So this is that. With some very married flirting and banter and a whole lot of tenderness if you squint.
Relationships: Handsome Jack/Timothy Lawrence
Kudos: 9





	if tea even exists in the future, tim has no idea how it's made

**Author's Note:**

> i tried so hard to find this a good title but im so so tired and this is just....mindless feel-good bullshit. also, i'm very much on team "they get to have a cute and mostly normal relationship if i say so because i'm gay and i deserve to have that au in my head" so ya know....dont come for me for writing cute shit

When all is said and done, Tim can pretty much admit that he’s satisfied with his life. Sure, it’s unconventional, but he has a steady job, a nice apartment, and a – considering the circumstances – very much loving and fulfilling relationship. Jack is kind of perfect if you ignore the murder and the ego, something Tim has gotten extremely good at, so really, it’s just. A good life.

Still, good doesn’t mean _ideal_. Jack has a megacorporation to run and it’s one of the only things in his life he takes seriously, so during the work week (and sometimes even on the weekends, holidays, and special off days) he leaves early, gets home late, and is generally consumed by his work. Tim can live with that, it’s not like he’s a trophy husband either, Jack keeps him well supplied with missions, but the early fucking mornings are going to _kill_ Timothy, probably much sooner than any insane gun-wielding bandit scum Jack sends him after.

 _Good morning, Handsome!_ Jack’s alarm clock says in its chipper, artificial voice. It starts rattling off the current weather, the latest news, as well as Jack’s daily schedule. Tim sits up in the bed and squints down at his watch. The numbers 7:15 are blinking up at him in their usual, pale-green colour and Tim can’t help but groan.

“Vanessa,” he calls out as he flops back down on the bed next to Jack, who is still fast asleep.

The AI stops its infodump.

_Yes, sir?_

“Fuck off.”

 _Command not recognized_ , Vanessa replies, _as I was saying: meeting with Maliwan executives at four PM. Personal note: don’t airlock them, PR is already on your dick about the Vladof –_

“Vanessa?”

_Yes, sir?_

“Snooze, fifteen minutes.”

_Yes, sir._

Tim buries his head under his pillow with a grateful sight. A ten-minute catnap is all he needs to get into tiptop shape. And maybe by then Jack will be awake too and he’ll do a better job of shutting Vanessa up. It seems to listen to him more.

Fifteen minutes is so not enough time, as Tim comes to discover. He wakes up from his short sleep ready to fucking blow Vanessa to pieces as it starts off with the _good morning, Handsome_ again, and only gets angrier when he sees that Jack is still asleep. He sits up and reaches over to shake Jack by the shoulder a little, earning a sleepy groan.

“Jack, wake up, you have a meeting in two hours.”

“No,” Jack groans, and pulls his blanket over his head, “leave me to die.”

“What has gotten into you?” Tim asks with a short, incredulous laugh. Jack is usually a way too chipper, up-and-at-‘em morning person, one of his worst qualities. Burrowing isn’t his style at all.

“Death,” Jack groans. Tim pulls away his blanket because he’s an adult like that.

Jack looks…terrible. Rosy cheeks, swollen, bleary eyes, a slight redness on the tip of his nose. He glares up at Tim and opens his mouth like he’s about to cuss out Tim’s entire bloodline, but it doesn’t come. Instead, a deep cough rips itself from his chest, making him convulse in his half-lying position until Tim gets an arm underneath him and helps him sit up. Jack coughs until he gags and nearly throws up, and sits there silently for a minute when he finally calms down.

“Bruh,” he says, extremely eloquently, “I feel like straight up skag shit.”

Yeah, he has a cold.

“How did this even happen?” Tim asks, “I thought you couldn’t get sick?”

“Yeah dude, same,” Jack rasps.

“I’ve had your dick in my ass, don’t call me dude,” Tim mutters. Jack snorts at that, like he’s about to laugh, then lapses into another coughing fit.

Tim just stares at him with a raised eyebrow until he’s done.

“Man my throat hurts like hell,” Jack muses, “I hate it.”

He looks… upset. Not in an _I’m going to start airlocking researchers in ten minutes if you don’t fix this_ way, his expression is almost childlike as he grimaces against each of his swallows. If Jack hasn’t been sick in what could be _decades_ then it’s no wonder he still behaves like a child about it, but it’s also deeply unsettling. For not the first time in his life Tim finds himself briefly wondering just how many levels of fucked up-ness Jack’s psyche contains.

“I’m gonna make you tea,” Tim decides with a sigh, because what the hell, Jack is so good at being a caring boyfriend, and he can totally do that too. “After tea you’ll have breakfast and meds and you’ll get better in no time, alright?”

“Alright,” Jack grumbles.

Tim climbs out of bed (it’s so early and he’s in only boxers and he’s cold and he wants to get back to bed and –) and makes his way to the kitchen, puts water in the kettle and sets it to boil while he looks for mugs and teabags. While he’s at it he can make himself a luxurious cup of instant coffee, he decides, and does just that. It’s black with a ton of sugar, or as Jack likes to call it, the Heart Attack. Well. Tim is all about efficiency and a cup of his rocket fuel can substitute two meals in calories if necessary. Besides, Jack’s 1:4 coffee-to-milk ratio with _no sugar_ is no better and a sad, lukewarm abomination at best, so who even is he to talk down on Tim’s tastes.

Tim shoves a couple of frozen croissants into the oven so they have something to eat as well and manoeuvres back to the bedroom with the two mugs. Jack is sitting up on the edge of the bed, wrapped up in his blankets like a cape, hunched over. His hair is _a mess_. He looks like a sad, nestling crow hatchling.

“Here ya go.” Tim hands Jack his mug with a sympathetic smile and settles down close beside him, offering a snuggling option for Jack in case he wants to leech off Tim’s body heat. He wants to, and cuddles into Tim’s side with a little sigh.

“Thanks, babycakes,” he grins tiredly, and takes a small sip from his drink.

“Oh, what the fuck!” he yells the next second, choking and sputtering, damn near spilling the tea everywhere.

“Timmy, sweetheart, apple of my fucking eye, _what is this_?”

“It’s…tea?”

“I’m pretty sure this could be classified as toxic waste. What did you put in it?”

Tim glares at him as best as he can what with Jack still being cuddled into his side.

“It’s lemon tea, it’s supposed to help with your cold. And I put some ginger in there because it also helps? And sugar? And some cinnamon.”

Jack stares at him with an empty gaze for a minute.

“Dude,” he says, “it’s fucking _tea_ not a goddamn cake, what the hell. You just put the tea bag in, pour water on it and voilà. I can’t believe you.”

“Stop being so ungrateful,” Tim pouts, “It’s the thought that counts.”

“It really isn’t,” says Jack, shaking his head remorsefully. “This just sucks.”

“Well,” Tim starts in an indignant tone, “I’m not _required_ to know everything about spices and shit, we live in the future where you can get everything ready-made. _And_ you always insist on cooking!”

Jack heaves a remorseful sigh.

“Alright, cupcake. _Thank you_ for making me tea.”

“And breakfast,” Tim reminds him. The scent of freshly baked croissants fills the entire apartment at this point and Tim thinks about the strawberry jam in the fridge and how he’s going to eat all of it for breakfast because he deserves it.

“And breakfast,” Jack acquiesces with a tired smile.

They eat in relative silence after Jack’s initial comments about how nice and warm his croissant is. He’s sporting a massive fever and sits at the dining table still bundled in his duvet, but he looks a bit more alive than ten minutes ago, which is definitely an improvement. Tim is simultaneously relieved and annoyed when Jack explains how to make tea _properly_ to him. It’s good that Jack still has his usual cockiness about him but it’s one of his most annoying qualities, so Tim considers it only a half-win.

“I don’t think I’m going in to work today,” Jack pipes up as they’re finishing up breakfast. Tim glares at him with disapproval.

“But you have so much stuff, your PA will be so put out if you make him reschedule it all! And he’s already so pissy in general!”

“I’m not planning on rescheduling it,” Jack says with a smirk, pointedly looking Tim up and down.

“No,” Tim protests immediately.

“Yes,” Jack grins back.

“No.”

“Yes, pumpkin. It’s your _job_.”

“You have like ten other body doubles,” Tim whines, “Jack, c’mon…”

Jack steps close to Tim and pulls him close by his hips. He’s grinning up at Tim from his maybe two inches of height disadvantage with what could be categorized as a seductive expression if he weren’t currently drowning in his own snot.

“You’re the best one, Timmy,” he purrs, thumbs rubbing circles into Tim’s hipbones. The flattery goes straight to Tim’s head (and dick if we’re being honest here). He’s vain and he likes knowing how fucking good he is at his job. A little sucking up on Jack’s end usually does the trick.

“Fine,” he says, voice dropping to match Jack’s cadence perfectly, “consider your wish granted, cupcake.”

“It’s hot when you do that,” Jack says, still grinning but now it’s more _hunger_ and less _I’m an asshole_.

“Just putting this out there, it’s sexy as fuck. You should be me more often.”

“You’re a textbook narcissist,” Tim says, shaking his head fondly.

“Yeah, yeah, love you too,” Jack shrugs nonchalantly. Tim stares a little. Jack hardly ever says _the L-word_ , much less so casually.

“Remember, you have the Maliwan meeting today! And also the demo in –”

“In R&D, I know,” Tim sighs. It’s going to be a long day and he super doesn’t want to do it.

“Can’t you send Steve after all? I know he’s free. And I could take care of you! I could be your personal nurse.”

“Nurse, huh,” Jack snickers, “ya gonna wear some sexy outfit too, sweetcheeks?”

“If that’s what takes for you to keep me around, _yeah_.”

Jack actually looks like he’s considering it for a moment.

“No,” he settles finally, “I still want you to do my shit for me. Off you go, honeybuns. Let ol’ Jack get better here with some _actual tea_ and somesuch.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“You got it, babe.”

Tim smiles and presses a kiss into the mess of hair on top of Jack’s head.

“I’ll bring Vietnamese for dinner?” he offers as he walks back to their room to get clothes for the day.

“Yes _please_ ,” Jack groans appreciatively. “You know me so well.”

“Yeah, that’s my job,” Tim grumbles to himself. Jack laughs and surprisingly enough doesn’t start coughing immediately. Only, like, two seconds later. He waves away Tim as he rushes to his side in worry, grumbling that he’s fine and Tim should get ready if he doesn’t want to miss his first appointment of the day. Tim does so and soon he’s standing in the doorway in his Handsome Jack outfit, mask in place and hair combed exactly like his boyfriend’s.

“Jack, can I ask you a favour?” he asks as he opens the door.

“Sure,” Jack shrugs, “what can I do you for?”

“Please murder Vanessa by the time I’m back.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading! comments and kudos are always welcome, and if you feel like it, hit me up on social media or check out my other works: [ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cardinal__sin) | [tumblr](https://cardinalxsin.tumblr.com/) | [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/cardinalxsin/) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/cardinalxsin)


End file.
